


i'm not going anywhere

by Anonymous



Category: Ghostbusters (2016)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-19
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-24 00:43:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21090539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Holtzmann has serious textural issues with slime and Erin is there to look after her.Pure fluff/hurt/comfort.





	1. Chapter 1

"Erin, can you try a little harder, please?" Holtzmann yells, wheeling her two beams closer together as the apparition struggles under the pressure.

Erin yanks hard on her beam and the ghost slams to the ground. Holtzmann slams her foot on the trap and, as the ghost is sucked in, it ecto-projects all over her. "Shit!" She slams the trap closed and collapses to the ground, shuddering.

Erin's coveralls are soaked in sweat. She ties them around her waist and follows Holtzmann's lead to lie down.

They stay in silence for a minute, until Erin catches her breath and sits up.

"Holtz? You okay?"

Holtzmann is lying on the ground, eyes squeezed closed, goop dripping from her entire top half.

"Holtzmann?" Erin leans over tentatively and wipes a handful of goop away from around her eyes.

Holtzmann slowly sits up. "Sorry. Just… ugh." She grits her teeth as she stands up. The goo is splattered all over her face, hair, and now it's dripping inside her coveralls. Disgusting. "Let's just go," she sighs.

Erin wants to help, but doesn't know how. She can see Holtzmann struggling with the texture, shuddering as she scrapes goo from her collarbone. She knows Holtz can't even eat chili "because it feels like snot."

"I've got some wipes in the car-"

"I need a shower," Holtzmann says flatly, stomping off to the car, taking measured steps, wiping her hands clean on a towel that she uses to cover the driver's seat. She beckons Erin to _hurry up_, unsmiling.

Holtzmann doesn't even quip about Erin's ass as she sits down.

Erin exhales deeply. _It's not personal._ When she gets slimed, all she wants to do is shower and go to bed. She holds the ghost trap silently in the passenger seat the whole ride home, wishing she could fix it.

Holtzmann's knuckles are white on the steering wheel. Erin watches as the goo crusted around her hairline dries into flakes.

When they get home, Holtz goes straight for the shower, ignoring Erin completely.

Feeling like a date just went horribly wrong and unsure _why_, exactly, she would feel like that about Holtzmann, Erin picks up Holtz's grotty towel and discarded coveralls and throws them, along with her own, into their industrial washer.

***

When she shuts the bathroom door, Holtzmann loses it. She turns the shower on full blast, desperately pinching her thigh to keep from completely dissociating.

As it runs from cold to hot, she sobs and sobs, scraping off handfuls of goop and throwing them violently on the shower floor. When it heats up to lukewarm, she steps under and douses herself in handfuls of Radox. The ectoplasm begins to loosen from her pores and rinses away, leaving gloopy trails in the drain. _Feels like snot, looks like snot_, Holtzmann thinks, feeling sicker by the minute.

She turns to wash her head, dipping her hair under the spray. The crusty bits around her hairline rehydrate, dribbling down her face, running into her mouth. Bile rises up in her stomach and she before she can even try make it out of the shower, she's vomiting all down the shower door. _Shit, shit, shit_.

Dizzy, she sinks to the floor and curls against the back wall, tears and snot washed into her mouth by the shower spray. She half-heartedly scrapes at her face, trying to clean herself up, before it all gets to much and she puts her hands over her ears and rocks back and forth over and over and over and over to keep a tenuous grip on reality.

The water begins to run cold before Erin knocks on the shower door. "Holtzmann? Are you okay?"

She can't summon the strength to get up or even open her mouth to respond. She keeps rocking.

"Holtzmann? I'm coming in if you don't answer me." Erin's voice shakes.

Holtzmann has the presence of mind to lift her arm across her nipples as Erin wriggles the door unlocked and comes in. She can see Erin's plain brown slippers making their way closer to the shower. Erin slides open the door and squats down.

"Oh, honey."

Holtzmann wants to cringe away from the sympathy in her voice. _I'm okay_, she wants to shout.

"I'm going to turn off the shower and get you out, okay? Oh, it's cold." Erin switches off the showerhead, deftly avoiding the vomit as she places a clean, fluffy towel over Holtzmann's hunched form.

Holtz slowly comes back to life, wrapping the towel around herself. Erin holds her hand as she stands upright, shaky. Erin dries her arms and legs with another towel, then softly wipes her hair clean.

"I'll get you some clean clothes, okay?"

Holtzmann perches, wrapped in her towel, on the toilet seat, while Erin brings back a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt and plain black panties. Nodding thank you, Holtz slowly pulls the clothes on. Erin quickly cleans up the mess in the shower as Holtzmann dresses.

Holtzmann whispers, "I'll do it," but Erin waves her away.

"What are friends for?"

_Not to see me like this_, Holtzmann wants to say. _Friends should leave friends well enough alone when they're having full-blown, naked panic attacks._ She wants to be angry, angry enough to push Erin away, because no one gets to see her cry, but it's _Erin_, and it feels so good to be looked after, to have the woman she has a pointless, unrelenting crush on dry her hair. She just trails Erin out of the bathroom and all the way to her room, where she's tucked into bed.

Hot tears are starting to seep from beneath her eyelids as Erin smooths the cover over her body. Holtzmann rolls away, hiding her face in the pillow, not wanting Erin to see.

Erin's hand tentatively strokes the back of her head. "It's okay, Holtzy. I know. Just let me- let me look after you." Her voice breaks a little and that's what prompts Holtzmann to roll back over.

"I'm going to bring you some tea and something to eat, okay? Looks like you tossed all your cookies before."

Erin leaves the room abruptly as Holtzmann is trying to think of a way to express how important Erin is to her. She's never been looked after like this before.

And Erin saw her crumpled in the shower, with the crying and the vomit splatters, _and she's still here_.

When Erin comes back, she gestures Holtzmann to sit up and places a tray on her lap. There's a little bowl full of Pringles, a mug of steaming chamomile tea, and an apple fanned out into slices.

"Thanks," Holtzmann whispers, lips trembling. She dashes her hands furiously across her eyes.

"You're welcome," Erin says. "Can I stay?"

Holtzmann nods and munches through three slices of apple methodically. Erin sits on the end of the bed, twisting a lock of hair around and around her finger, looking almost… lost?

"Penny for your thoughts," Holtzmann whispers, resisting the urge to lean over and kiss her. She's always been better at expressing her feelings with touch than with words. And Erin's doe eyes are always irresistible. _She doesn't like you like that, remember_? Holtzmann bites into another apple slice.

Erin starts. "I'm just… glad that you let me look after you. You're always so… strong."

"Thank you. You're the only one-" Holtzmann looks away, tears threatening again. "You're very precious to me, Erin."

Erin nods, finger going back to her hair and twisting, twisting. 

They sit in silence as Holtzmann finishes off the Pringles. She puts the tray down, and then wriggles over, leaving a space.

She looks at Erin with wide eyes, struggling for the words to communicate what she needs. Wants. _Stay with me_. _Please_.

Erin takes the cue. "You want me to stay?"

Holtzmann nods, looking down. "Please," she manages to get out, through the emotion compressing her larynx into her esophagus.

Erin climbs into bed wordlessly, smoothing the bedclothes over both of them. Their legs brush together, then she opens her arms to Holtzmann. She crawls into the embrace, resting her head on Erin's collarbone, soothed by the accelerated _thump-thump_ of her heartbeat.

"Good night, Holtz," Erin whispers.

"G'night, Erin," Holtzmann murmurs back.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oops, it turned into angst.

Erin breathes softly into Holtzmann's hair as the engineer relaxes into sleep.

As she falls fully asleep, Holtzmann wriggles a bit and throws a leg over Erin's body. Her inner thigh is scorching hot against Erin's pubic bone, and a frisson of… something jolts through Erin like an electric shock.

Holtzmann nuzzles into her collarbone, huffing a soft breath over her bare skin, and Erin places the feeling.

She's aroused.

_That's sick, Erin_, she scolds herself. _Your best friend just had a panic attack and now you're horny_?

But it's not that Holtzmann had a panic attack – it's that she finally let her guard down. It's made everything clear to Erin – Holtzmann is the person she's been dreaming about for her whole life.

It's Holtzmann herself. The fan of her hair over Erin's shoulder is one of the most sensual experiences she's has ever had. The clean apple smell of Radox shower gel is all-consuming.

In the dark, Erin finally admits it to herself.

_I have a crush on Jillian Holtzmann_.

Erin tosses this around in her mind for a while. She's been… thinking about Holtz more than anyone else lately. She's hyper-sensitive whenever they touch, aware of the slightest rejection. The slightest advance.

She wants to see Holtz, asleep, mouth open, like this every night. She wants to cuddle her to sleep. She wants Holtzmann to trust her to help if she's having a panic attack. She wants…

She wants Holtzmann to fuck her like there's no tomorrow.

She _really_ wants that.

Well, that puts paid to any hope of sleeping.

Erin lies awake, tossing around ways of bringing up her newfound knowledge to Holtzmann. She promises herself to do it first thing in the morning, before her brain wakes up and before she can talk herself out of it.

The thought of Holtzmann laughing in her face at her declarations of love finally quenches any lingering arousal, and Erin drifts to sleep, inhaling Holtzmann's sweet scent.

***

Holtzmann wakes up still snuggled in Erin's arms. She smiles to herself, listening to the soft snuffle of Erin's breathing.

Just for a moment, she lets herself imagine that this is her life every day. That Erin is her girlfriend, that they cuddle each other regularly, that…

Then she stops herself in her tracks, mentally shaking her head. She wriggles slowly out of Erin's embrace and just watches her. Erin sighs and readjusts her body and Holtzmann holds her breath – _will she wake up?_ – but she doesn't.

Holtz settles in and lets herself absorb every curve of Erin's face. Her anxious furrows are smoothed by deep sleep and a trail of drool runs onto Holtz's pillow. Her hair is all mussed up on one side.

_This is what sleepy Erin looks like_. The knowledge pains Holtzmann – that she hasn't come by it by seducing Erin into her bed but by practically begging her to stay after Erin found her catatonic from a panic attack.

"Holtz…" Erin murmurs. Holtzmann's eyes snap back to her face, but she's just sleep-talking.

Her heart contracts painfully, and she has to touch every reason she can't kiss Erin. Every time her crush threatens to overwhelm her logical and sensible boundaries, she rattles these off in her head.

_Erin is straight. _

_Erin doesn't like you like that. _

_Erin wants something else. _

_Erin would never be interested in a weirdo like you._

This morning, she adds a new one.

_Erin doesn't want someone who can't even take a shower by herself._

Holtzmann wraps her arms around herself and talks herself down.

***

Erin wakes up slowly, confused by the unfamiliar smells, by the pillow that's softer and lumpier than her own, and then she jerks awake all at once. Holtzmann is lying on the other side of the bed, watching her.

"Morning, Er-bear," the engineer murmurs, smiling enigmatically.

"Holtz," Erin says stupidly. Then she shakes her head, trying to put the events of yesterday in order, her big realization breaking over her all over again as she watches Holtzmann's nose scrunch up. "How are you feeling today?" She tries to inject her voice with all the tenderness she feels, wanting to convey how much Holtzmann means to her – to preface her declaration.

"Peachy, sweet-cheeks," Holtz answers, eyes dropping Erin's immediately. She crosses her arms over her chest almost unconsciously. "How are _you_ on this fine morning?" Her leg starts bouncing under the covers.

Erin's heart drops. She doesn't want Holtzmann to be flippant and flirty like she always is. Something _happened_ last night and she wants Holtzmann to _acknowledge_ that, goddamnit.

_Oh, who am I kidding?_ She wants Holtzmann to lean over and press her into the pillow and kiss her and, and, and…

"Holtz…" is all she says, pleading. She wants, she _needs_ to be taken seriously right now.

Holtzmann plasters a big grin on her face. "What do you want to do today? It's Sunday, so maybe we won't have any busts! We could test out that new proton shotgun I've been working on. Big poof guaranteed!"

Suddenly Erin's mad. She was so ready to confess to Holtzmann, and now the other woman is just being stupid. It feels like a flippant rejection, even if Holtzmann didn't mean it that way. "Holtz, can't you just-?" she says abruptly.

"No," Holtzmann states, looking away, fake smile fading.

Feeling like everything's imploding, Erin pushes aside the bedclothes with more feeling than is strictly warranted for Buzz Lightyear, leaving Holtzmann to be stupid _all by herself_.

***

Holtzmann deflates, tears stinging at her eyes. She's made Erin angry, for reasons she can't quite fathom.

She didn't want Erin to feel like they had to _talk_ about last night, that Holtzmann was going to burden her with all her problems. She wanted Erin to see that she was still the same old quirky, energetic engineer, that it was a momentary blip, that she's still cool and exciting and flirty and fun.

It's too hard for her to explain the exact feeling of nausea and revulsion that she gets from the slime, the feeling that she wants to rip her skin off and float away into the clouds without corporeal form. Too hard to explain that there are a lot of things that make her feel like that, and sometimes the world is too big, too bright, too loud, and she has to close herself in to survive.

_Erin should just understand_. She feels like she's been flayed raw, her emotions out of control, and Erin's denying her the one bit of control she needs.

She angrily dashes her brimming eyes and gets up, dressing in her favourite, soft, green overalls. She twists her hair up into a quick bun, not bothering to tease it out into her signature style.

She doesn't have the energy to go downstairs and pretend that she's fine. She wants Erin to come and hold her and rock her back to sleep, and at the same time she wants Erin to come back so she can scream and yell at her for making her so unutterably confused.

She wants Erin to love her, and she wants to hate her too.

Everything is leaking out of her, bringing her lower and lower until she sinks to the floor by the head of her bed. She rolls underneath, relishing the quiet, dark space, and comes face-to-face with the remains of the plate that Erin brought her last night.

She blinks furiously until the tears subside. God, she _never_ cries, and suddenly Erin shows the tiniest bit of interest in her and she's doing a remarkable impression of a leaky faucet.

_Pathetic._

"Holtz?" Erin is standing in the doorway, holding two steaming mugs.

She looks around, missing Holtz's hiding place, and goes over to the bathroom, calling out. Holtzmann doesn't have the energy to call back, but when Erin comes back to double check, she waves a hand from under the bed.

Erin squats down at the head of the bed, looking at Holtz's prone body.

"I'm sorry I was weird," she says softly. "I really… I like you. You're one of my best friends." It hurts to hear Erin call her _friend_ in the same way it thrills to hear her say _I like you._ "I don't want you to feel like you have to put on this show for me. We can just be quiet today if that's what you need. I still think you're brilliant."

Holtzmann opens her eyes wide, trying to push back those pesky tears, trying to summon the energy for a glib response or to flirt audaciously, but instead she just nods. She's too tired to fight and she's too proud to crawl into Erin's lap and snuggle into her for the comfort she craves.

"You want some breakfast?" Erin asks, putting down the mug next to her. Hot cocoa, marshmallow on the side _because it feels like snot_. Holtzmann cracks a smile and wriggles out from under the bed, taking a sip of sugary goodness.

"Thank you," she whispers. _I love you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment, I need validation like a crackhead needs crack.


End file.
